Proximity
by C-130
Summary: It turns out that you don't instantly become a team just because you have successfully defeated an alien invasion...But when Hawkeye is shot and Tony's suit tries to kill him, the Avengers discover that sometimes the strongest bonds are built by simply being there for each other.
1. Chapter 1 - To Fall

_**Author's Note**\- Hello everyone, this is my second attempt writing MCU fanfiction and this piece is unbetaed so any feedback/correction comment would be greatly appreciated. As just for context, this particular story takes place just after the first Avenger's movie when the team is still trying to figure out how it fits together. This particular story has been mostly written while sitting with relatives in the hospital and without internet access, so please forgive any mistakes I may have made with locations, terms, or continuity. _

_**Disclaimer**\- I do not own the comics nor the MCU...and I may have spent too much time leafing through medical literature in the hospital waiting area for my own good. _

* * *

**Chapter 1-_To Fall_**

* * *

Steve Rogers reached to turn off the alarm only to fall out of bed. As he successfully grabbed the SHIELD communicator, he noted the time. It was just after two thirty…AM…so much for getting a full night's sleep. It was true that he didn't particularly need a full eight hours, he didn't even need four to be fully functional, but after being frozen for seventy years, one craves regularity. When you are a member of a strange team of heroes such as the Avengers and trying to clean up the wreckage of an alien invasion in downtown Manhattan, regularity is hard to come by.

"Steve here." As Steve's spoke into the communicator, his groggy mind half expected to hear Tony's voice on the other end. Unfortunately for his beauty sleep, this was not another prank call.

"_Captain, this is Agent Hill, we need you to report to 43th street and 1st Avenue immediately_." The familiar alto of Agent Fury's right-hand woman was crisp with the tension of an ongoing mission. Steve's instincts were sent into overdrive.

"What is going on?" Steve asked gravely as he instinctively begins to dawn his uniform.

_"There appears to be an attack on the United Nations Complex currently in progress. We have SHIELD agents already deployed and but their hands are full with the evacuations. They are requesting back up and you and Ironman were currently in the neighborhood."_

"What type of attack?"

"_According to the boots on the ground, it appears to be some sort of laser cannon."_

"_An analysis I totally agree with, by the way_." Stark interjected over the comlink. "_You ready yet, Capsicle_?"

"I'm in uniform." Steve commented as he slid his fingers through his hair and reached his shield.

"_Then get your butt up to the roof. You have a flight to catch."_

"Who is picking me up?" Steve checked magazine on his gun before heading out the door.

_"Me."_ Stark stated simply. He really didn't need to say much more. Steve's apartment had been situated on the top floor of a sixteen-story apartment building in Brooklyn so that there was space for a small aircraft or Ironman to land.

"Stark you better not be flying drunk?" Steve rolled his shoulders to loosen up as he jogged up the short flight of stairs to the roof. Before he reached the door, there was a loud thunk which meant that his lift had arrived.

"I have been working on a project and I'm smart enough not to drink and derive. Besides the project involves radioactive substances and I would like the possibility of little Starks running around someday." The billionaire was being an ass…like normal, but it seemed like Tony was telling the truth.

"Well, the radiation appears to have not harmed your sense of humor."

"Of course, I am a genius after all."

_"Stop fighting like an old married couple. You two are on live mikes and the banter is currently distracting my technicians."_ Agent Hill's smirk could be heard over the radio. i

"Is there a plan of attack?" Steve felt his cheeks pink slightly with embarrassment, but he turned his full focus on the issue at hand.

"_The rest of the team is approximately 7 minutes out. Your job is to provide a diversion. We don't particularly care what you do, just as long as you keep enemy distracted and minimize damage downtown Manhattan. While you keep the enemy busy, the rest of the Avengers will attempt to sneak up from behind and take out the laser cannon."_

"Be the targets so they can get all of the glory, blaw, blaw, blaw." The sarcasm in Tony's voice was so thick that Steve could practically hear the eye roll in his voice. "Yeah, we get the point Hill."

"Do we know who we are fighting?" Steve tried to shift the topic of discussion.

_"Unable to determine at this time. We were hoping that information can be sorted out once the laser cannon has been successfully captured."_

"So you expect me to get the bottom of things…again." One could hear the annoyance in Tony's voice as he spoke.

_"You are Avenger's weapons expert." _Agent Hill pointed out flatly.

"Well then, I guess I better listen to the Lady and go be a weapon then."

Before Steve could make an argument Ironman had already clamped onto him, and they where speeding north towards the island of Manhattan.

* * *

Clint Barton, aka Hawkeye, had to admit that on some level he was enjoying watching Captain America and Ironman getting shot at. He took that back, he was currently getting immense enjoyment watching Stark getting shot at. The fact that Steve was also looking a bit ridicules dodging the laser was simply an added bonus.

The battle had been well at hand when the quinjet had hovered above the US mission to the UN, giving Clint enough time to jump to his assigned perch. He had quickly set up a spotting post and began to take observations on the behavior of the laser cannon. It was pretty clear that the weapon was located across the river in Queens, and that it had limited firing rate. While the cannon was highly disruptive, it could only shoot once every 45 seconds and the beam only lasted for three-tenths of a second. Tony commented that this was probably due to the high amounts of energy required by the weapon, as well as the massive amounts of heat produced when the beam was created.

Clint glanced at his watch and determined that they were nearly due for another shot. "The laser should be booting up again. Expect a shot in the next five to ten sec…"

A stream angry red light shot across the sky cutting deeply into the asphalt and bursting a pipe at Captain America's feet. Steve only had enough time to duck behind his shield before the laser swept across where his legs used to be. The beam of light ricocheted off the shield straight into Ironman's flight path sending the armored Avenger into a nearby building. Moments later the light blinked out again as the cannon shut down. Even from his vantage point a block away and forty stories up Clint could clearly see just how powerful the weapon was. The right side of Ironman's armor was blacked and a few panels appeared to be deformed. Captain America shield's paint job was also scared and cracked, but shield itself was still intact.

"_Hawkeye, what just happened?"_ Steve queered as he dusted himself off.

"It appears that the enemy has found a way to shorten their recharge timed." Clint pulled out the night vision goggles and tried to determine if Stark was still moving. "It appears that Ironman was taken out by the last blast."

"_I'm right here you know. I'm also fine."_ Stark's voice was steady, but there was an edge of pain in it and he was breathing heavily. The fact that he was still sprawled on the pavement also wasn't a good sign, but it was clear that their armored teammate wasn't ready to throw in the towel. "_The suit has sustained some damage, but I am fine."_

_"What has happened?"_ Thor's voice boomed over the comlink.

_"Just a little accident, Stark you will sit the rest of this out."_ Steve stated solemnly, and then Clint practically heard the other hero break into a smile when he continued. _ "Miss Potts would kill me if I bring you back in less than pristine condition."_

"_Fine, I am retreating, but only long enough to run a diagnostic_." Pain and exhaustion had started to slur Stark's usually cocky voice.

Luckily for Stark, it appeared that the battle was already over. A great roar from across the city caused Clint focused in that direction, just in time to see the Hulk throwing the ruined chunks of the laser gun off of another skyscraper. A clap of thunder finished the job, cooking the pieces into indistinguishable lumps of metal. Stark was probably going to throw a hissy fit over the demolished laser, but Clint was pretty sure that none of the other heroes would lose a minute sleep over the damage. The battle was over, in a few more minutes the whole site would be swarming with SHIELD agents who perform the cleanup.

"_Hey, I'm going to have to reconstruct that you know_." Stark whined as he watched Thor melt another piece.

_"One cannot stop the Hulk."_ Thor laughed.

"_I am not mad at the Big Guy. He is just doing his job_." Stark was clearly miffed, but his voice was more tired than angry. "_You, on the other hand, seem to be intent on making my life miserable by cooking all the pieces."_

"_Come on guys don't fight until after we get through the debriefing."_ Steve sighed clearly annoyed at his team's antics.

There was a faint hissing sound and Clint turned just in time to feel small, sharp pain at the base of his neck. The source of the threat was dead before Clint could fully process his actions, a black arrow neatly threaded through one of his eye sockets. Only after the enemy had toppled backwards did he allow his hand to feel the small feathered dart buried deep in the side of his neck. Then he felt the numbness spreading down his arm and across his shoulder. His hand spasmed, then to Clint's horror, his bow slipped loosely out of his fingers.

"I'm hit." He barely managed to croak into the com before his vocal cords also ceased to function. Then there was nothing he could do as he slid bonelessly off his perch.

Even as he plummeted towards his death, his brain wouldn't stop working. It judged the distance he was traveling and the time it had taken to get this far. He remembered his mass and calculated acceleration in earth atmospheric conditions and determined that based on the height of the building he was not going to reach terminal velocity before he smashed into the sidewalk below…Not that that would make much of a difference.

* * *

_**Endnote-** So, it turns out someone in the hospital waiting room was working on their physics homework so I was able to do a little bit of math. Hawkeye was about 320 feet in the air and according to the comics, he has an official weight of 230 lbs. If no one manages to come to his aid, Hawkeye would hit the pavement in 8.08 seconds at a velocity of 79.2 meters per second. So, in short, not a good day for Clint._

_**Next Chapter-** Watching a teammate plummet from the top of a 26 story building was one of the most stressful parts of the job...luckily it was something Stark's actions could effect. Unfortunately, things are just going from bad to worse. _


	2. Chapter 2 - To Catch

_**Author's Note-**Thank you so much for everyone who suggested feedback. I have tried to incorporate/correct the things that were mentioned. As always, if you catch an error or spot something I can do better please let me know. Now that house keeping is done, let the whumping begin. _

* * *

**Chapter 2-** To Catch

* * *

Watching one of your teammates plummeting from the top of a twenty-six story building was one of the most terrifying aspects of being a member of the Avengers. Luckily, it was a part of the job Stark could do something about.

"JARVIS override the safety on the thrusters." Stark ordered the moment that he forced himself airborne.

"_Override now._" The AI replied clearly recognizing the urgency of the situation.

The engineer only had seconds to react, but based on the sound his repulses were making his damaged suit wasn't going to have enough power to do a full catch and carry, but that didn't mean that he was going to allow his teammate to splatter across the pavement. Tony was going to use physics to soften the impact and hopefully make it survivable. A shallow parabola would probably do it. In order to achieve the proper angle, he would need to add a little more thrust right about now.

Clint hit him like a very large sack of potatoes and Stark change the angle of thrust. Clint weighed a little bit more than he expected, and the two of them came down harder and faster than Tony would have preferred. There was a painfully shrieking sound as metal grated against asphalt, and Stark could tell that they were both going to be very sore the next morning, but at least they would live.

"_Ironman report!"_ Captain America's panic bark crackled over the radio.

"Could use a little help here." Stark managed to choke out as he slowly pushed Hawkeye off of him and tried to sit up. He had clearly just saved the day, but Stark still couldn't shake the feeling there was something wrong. On closer inspection he finally figured out what it was. Hawkeye wasn't moving…at all. "Shit!" An alarm in his suit went off as his heart rate skyrocketed with panic, but Tony didn't have time to address that right now. He needed to get Hawkeye help. "JARVIS get on the SHIELD frequency and tell them that we needed their med team present five minutes ago."

"_What is going on?"_ Rogers' voice was all business.

"Legolas isn't breathing."

_"Does he have a heartbeat?" _The team lead was breathing heavy as he spoke which made Tony suspect that Rogers was heading to their location at a dead sprint.

"Don't know, I am checking now." Stark said as he manually stripped out of his gloves. "JARVIS, Helmet off now."

"_Retracting helmet, Sir."_ The face plate slid away, but the rest of the helmet stayed in place.

"JARVIS the helmet is still on." Stark leaned forward trying to find a pulse in Hawkeye's neck as he internally swore about the apparent suit malfunction.

"_Sir._" JARVIS had an edge of panic in his voice. "_Given the damage to your suit I am having a hard time running a proper diagnostic, but there appears to be damage there is electrical damage to large portions of the suit. That said, the readings I am getting from the undamaged pressure sensors indicate that maybe foreign object or substance inside the suit that is preventing the full movement or retraction of the plates._"

"Ignore the data, remove the helmet." Stark ordered. JARVIS made a sound of concern, but complied. By that point Tony realized that he probably should have listened to his AI as he gritted his teeth to prevent himself from yelping when the helmet finally fully retracted taking a hand full of hair with it.

_"Stark what is going on?"_ Rogers requested another bloody status report.

"I don't know?" Stark gasped as he searched his teammate for signs of injury or blood, he didn't see any. "Hawkeye said he was hit, then he fell off the building and when we got the grounded he wasn't breathing. He has a pulse."

"_The pulse is a good sign."_ Captain America was clearly trying to sound optimistic over the radio, but even Tony could hear concern seeping in around the edges.

"Come on Clint, breath for me." Stark wheezed as panic made it difficult for the engineer to breath. "Come on, you can do it."

Luckily, a SHIELD medic arrived before Tony tried to attempted rescue breathing…which was a blessing because at the moment he wasn't really sure if the suit would have allowed him to bend over the wounded archer to apply it…and applied an oxygen mask to Clint. When the second medic arrived, Stark used JARVIS to list off relevant data from Clint's medical history and from the fall. Once the report was complete, Tony was shooed away so that the medics could give their full attention to their patient.

As he watched the SHIELD operatives try to save his teammate's life Stark began to realize that there was something else wrong, something far worse than a malfunction of the electronics systems of his suit. It was almost as though his suit was trying to literally become a second skin…unfortunately it was a poor fitting exoskeleton that was making it difficult to move and even more difficult to breathe…and to make things worse whenever he moved it felt like parts of him were being torn apart. The longer he waited the more intense the pain got. If it got much worse he wouldn't have the energy to get back to the lab and diagnose the problem.

"Stark, do you think you are doing?" Steve's concerned voice, cause Tony to look up and realize that he had already walk a forth of a block towards home. For a few moments Tony considered giving a snarky comment and trying to brush everything off…but the pain and stiffness was getting worse. He closed his eyes and tried to explain the problem in words that the Capsicle would understand.

"My suit is failing and JARVIS can't diagnose exactly what is wrong. I need to get back to the tower and to my lab before it loses power, or locks up, or otherwise gets worse."

Stark opened his eyes to see a very concerned pair of baby blues staring back at him. For a moment he was convinced that Captain America was going to yell at him…though at the moment Tony couldn't think of any particular reason why he should he dressed down by the relic. Then Roger's eyes softened slightly and the super soldier turned to a nearby SHIELD Agent. Stark was heading back to his tower on a SHIELD transport within five minutes, because when Captain America gives an order people tend to jump.

* * *

Tony had promised Bruce that he was going to invent him a pair of pants that would survive the Hulk. Unfortunately, it appeared that the billionaire would have to go back to the drawing board because the current version left things a bit…breezy. The saddest part of the whole situation is that SHIELD personal who responded to this particular emergency were beyond caring. They had just walked up, handed him a pair of sweats and a juice box then wandered off.

Exhausted by his tango as the Green Guy, Bruce hadn't complained. He had just slipped on the pants and started consuming the juice in a vain attempt to raise his blood sugar a bit before the post transformation headache really kicked in. Resting his head against a nearby building, he tried to sort out his muddled thoughts, but it was proving harder to focus then normal. He wondered if it was because he had been dragged out of bed at such a ridiculous hour in the morning. His body ached, and the thought of time made his crave his bed…the big, soft, bed with crisp sheets that Tony had given him.

"Dr. Banner, take the call please." The Agent voice Bruce snapped back to the moment and he realized that he was being handed a phone.

"Sorry." He blinked owlishly at the Agent, a middle aged woman who seemed as bone tired as he was. She sighed and pushed the cellphone into his hands.

"Just take the call."

"Hello."

"_Dr. Banner, I am pleased that I was able to finally get ahold of you."_ A mild mannered English accent replied.

"JARVIS?" Bruce's brain was still not fully tracking, but the concern was starting to push his exhaustion aside.

"_Sir is…"_ The computer started but Bruce cut it off, when Stark was mentioned.

"JARVIS, can you put Tony on?"

"_I am sorry Dr. Banner, but at the moment I doubt that Sir has refused to inform me what the issue is and I am unable to do a complete scan due damage to the suit." _The near panic in the AI's tone was so clear that Bruce would have worried that JARVIS would start hyperventilating if it wasn't a computer. "_That said I am reading reduced cardiac output and irregular respiration. I believe that he is going into shock."_

"What is Stark's location?" Bruce, now fully awake, quizzed the computer.

"_He is currently located in the top floor of his lab, it is located on…"_ The AI was rambling…JARVIS was stressed enough to ramble. How was that even possible?

"Thank you Jarvis, I know where that is." Bruce started to chew on his lip every possible bad scenario was running through his head. Man, he hated the fact that he didn't remember the battles. He closed his eyes and spoke to the room at large. "You mentioned that he had suit damage. Was there any damage to the chest plate?"

"_The chest plate took an indirect hit from the laser canon._"

"Okay." Bruce relaxed a bit as he started to think through the situation. It is possible that the laser damaged the arc reactor. Loss of power would explain why JARVIS was having difficult time getting a reading on the suit and why Stark was struggling to remove his armor. A failing arc reactor would also explain the cardiac readings. "JARVIS, I am on my way. Make sure that you pull one of Tony's spare arc reactors and have it ready for me when I arrive."

It was shocking just how quickly you could travel New York City in the early morning. The streets were not completely empty, but compared with the choking traffic and masses of people that filled Manhattan during the daylight hours the delivery trucks and service vehicles like an afterthought. The JARVIS had the doors unlocked on the loading dock and had the freight elevator waiting for him when he arrived. The AI had greeted him when he had entered the building and then stayed uncharacteristically silent for the short ride up to the lab.

As soon the elevator doors opened Bruce knew it wasn't a failing arc reactor. Tony didn't curl up into the fetal position in the middle of the lab over a bad arc reactor. His robots were huddled close to him, clearly worried, but they made space for Bruce to approach his injured friend.

"Tony, focus on me buddy." Bruce placed himself in Stark's line of sight. "Tells me what is going on, tell me what hurts."

"Everything…everything used…to hurt…" Stark has panted "but now…a lot of it is...starting to…go numb…"

"Okay I am going to try to detach a few of the armor plates manually." Bruce chewed on his lip slightly while deciding what to do next. "This might hurt a little."

Bruce placed one hand on the manual release for one of the damaged plates, and the fingers of the other hand in the joint crack. With a quick movement, he tried to pop the plate free. He wasn't prepared for the reaction. Stark screamed and bucked hard causing the plate of armor to tear out of Bruce's hands. It took a few moments for Bruce to get his heart rate down and his vision to clear. By that point Stark had stopped screaming, but his face was pale and blood started to ooze through the crack in the armor. While he wasn't exactly sure what had gone wrong, he still knew enough medicine to recognize a medical emergency when he saw one.

"I felt that…" Stark chocked out when he finally got air back into his lungs. "Definitely…felt…that."

"Tony, this is important." Bruce placed his hand on the side of Stark's head and to forcing two of them make eye contact. "Is any layer of the suit made of plastic or are you wearing any synthetic fabric under the suit?"

"I…can't…remember…" Tony slurred and his eyes started to lose focus.

_"Sir was testing a new version of an anti-g suit which was designed to help reduce the risk of brownout and the strain on his heart. The base of this suit was primarily made of nylon and poly-blends."_ The computer paused for a moment. _"Based on your line of questioning, I looked up the data from laser cannon incident and it appears that the armor was heated beyond the melting point of this fabric."_

"Shit." Bruce the mild mannered scientist spat as he pulled out the lab's well stocked first aid kit. He knew that he couldn't treat Tony until the armor was removed, and he couldn't remove the armor until he got into a sterile environment otherwise there was a good chance that a major infection would end up killing Stark. "We are going to need a medivac."

_"I am trying to notify SHIELD, but they have not responded. I do have Captain Rodgers on the line though."_

"Great…Captain, are you there."

_"Bruce."_ Captain Rogers sounded a bit confused when he called over the radio, which shouldn't be too surprising; the Banner wasn't issued a radio because they didn't tend to survive the Hulk.

"Steve we need to arrange for a SHIELD medivac at the Tower."

_"Are you okay?" _

"I am fine. The medivac is not for me. Tony…Tony has managed to do a real number and this is beyond my ability to fix."

"_Of course he did._ _What happened this time?"_ Steve practically sighed over the radio. _"His did he get welded in his suit?"_

"I don't think that he got welded into the suit. I think that Tony got welded to the suit." Bruce started

_"What?"_

"I think that he got welded into the suit." Bruce could feel himself getting agitated. He tried to take a few calming breaths and concentrate on the clinical details. "It is basically the laser heated the outside shell of the armor to a high enough temperature it overwhelmed the coolant system. It wasn't enough to melt the outer armor, but it was enough to cook the new g-suit he was testing which then melted to the Ironman suit and Tony's skin."

_"How is that even possible?"_ An edge of guilt was clear in Steve's voice

"It is possible, it is very possible." Bruce admitted grimly, as he flipped through the data that JARVIS was feeding him. "It is why they don't let firefighters or military personal wear synthetic athletic clothing under their uniforms anymore."

"_I will pass on the word. We have a medical transport inbound from the Helicarrier to pick up Barton. ETA 10 minutes out._"

"What is wrong with Hawkeye?"

_"All I know is he isn't breathing."_ Steve admitted.

Of course, Bruce thought to himself. Honestly, the members of misfits seemed to have self-preservation instinct of a mouse infected with Toxoplasma gondii.

"Noted. Let the medical staff know that Ironman I would classify is triage status as Immediate Priority. They will know what that means." Bruce took deep breath, and turned to his patient. "Tony, we need to keep you awake and move you to the helipad. This isn't going to be a fun, so we are going to play the elements game to pass the time. List the transition metals by atomic weight from highest to lowest."

"Un..unbi..um, unun..un..ium, ununn…ilium, meit...ner...ium, hassium, bo...h...rium, sea…borg...ium," Stark coughed harshly as Bruce dragged him upright.

"Keep going." Bruce urged.

"Dud...nium, ruth...erford...ium, mer..cury…"

"You're forgetting the f block." Bruce gave his friend's hand squeeze as they painfully limped their way to the elevator.

"Techni….cality." Stark wheezed.

"Devils in the details." Bruce smiled softly. "What what has the next lower atomic weight?"

"La…" Stark swallowed hard, gritted his teeth and tried again. "Lawrencium."

"Good. Keep going...Just keep going."

As Stark listed off the periodic table, Bruce Banner wished he believed in prayer.

* * *

_**Endnote**-As someone who volunteers with a local search and rescue group, the whole having your clothing melt to your skin in an emergency has actually made it into my personal nightmares. It doesn't matter that you are wearing equipment designed to keep you safe. The heat from an explosion, crash, fire, or electrical accident can cause the fabric of your underclothes to melt to your body. This creates a type of burn that is far more difficult and often significantly more severe than would have been experienced otherwise. While this type of injury is relatively rare it is seen among military personnel in active war zones, wildfire victims, and welders._

_**Next Chapter-** It felt like they had been trapped for an eternity, watching Thor pace, Bruce was refusing to look anyone in the eye, and Steve just felt lost. Everyone had heard the words that the doctors had tossed back and forth as they wheel their teammates through the doors of the medical bay...those words had not brought the Avengers any comfort. _


	3. Chapter 3 - To Wait

_**Author's Note:** Hello, we have an extra long chapter for you today and we get to start getting into some of the various character's heads. Also, as a heads up, there is one section from an OC's perspective in this chapter. I promise his role in the story will be minor, but he has a skill set that the rest of the team lack. _

* * *

**Chapter 3 - **To Wait

* * *

An hour-long battle seemed to be over in an instant…a ten-minute wait for the medevac proved to last an eternity. To Steve, it was almost like the wait to see if Stark would pull off a miracle and return through the space portal during the battle of New York…only worse because during that particular incident he at least had the power to delay closing the portal. Here, at this moment, all he could do was wait.

Every fiber of Steve's body was screaming at him to fight and protect his team, but to do so right now would only fluster the medical staff and if their concerned glances were any indication then they really did need to keep their focus on Barton. This, unfortunately, gave him time to think and wonder how in the world the Avengers could fight an entire army of alien warriors and walk away from the conflict relatively intact, but the villain of the week could manage to know two of his men out of commission.

"We must trust the healers." Thor stated placing a warm hand on his shoulder. The Asgardian had stuck to Steve's side like glue ever since he had managed to arrive at the scene. He was a comforting presence even though the 'god' was practically vibrating with nervous energy.

"True, I just wish I knew what was going on."

"Even if the healers explained it, I doubt that we would understand it." Thor tilted his face up to the sky and settled his weight against a nearby building. "They have a magic all their own."

Steve wanted to say more. He wanted words to fill the uncomfortable quiet…he wanted to act…instead, Captain America froze. He stood still and watched as those who were qualified tried to save his teammate's life. Only when the quinjet landed in the UN plaza did Steve find a job that he was qualified to fill. He became the muscle needed to gently carry Hawkeye and the board he was strapped to into the aircraft. In the quinjet, Steve discovered that he was once again useless.

The flight to Avenger Tower only took moments. How Dr. Banner had managed to get Stark up to helicopter pad at the top of the building was beyond Steve's comprehension, but Stark lay half curled and still in his Ironman armor next to the landing pad as they made the final approach to Stark Tower. Getting Stark into the Quinjet had required Steve and Thor hauling him upright and manhandling him into the space. It was a tight squeeze but they managed to maneuver the wounded hero around where Clint was strapped down and settle him on the deck behind the pilots. Dr. Banner came up behind them and with oxygen tank.

"I've got him. He is stable" Dr. Banner practically growled at the medics has he helped nudge Stark into the recovery position. "Focus your attention on Hawkeye."

"Is there anything I can do?" Steve asked, and Dr. Banner looked him straight in the eyes before giving a sharp nod.

"Help me keep him awake and distracted."

The quinjet took to the air and a strangled cry slipped from Stark's lips as the deck plating jerked under them. Steve managed to keep him from sliding, but he looked "Painkillers?"

"I can't get an IV into him until we have been able to make a dent in that armor. And even if I could, any opioid based medication will probably more harm than good right now. Any painkiller that would numb the burns would be powerful enough to will reduce his cardiac output and respiration further." Bruce scrubbed his hand across his face, unwilling to make eye contact with the team leader.

"I've…en through wor…out meds." Stark slurred, his words muffled by the oxygen mask which he was trying the fiddle with.

"Stop playing with that, you need it." Dr. Banner gently pulled Stark's hand away from the mask. Stark glared up at the Doctor, but his eyes held no venom only pain and exhaustion which only heightened Steve's protective instinct. Banner, on the other hand, seemed completely calm, splitting his attention between his patient and a tablet which he used to communicate with JARVIS. As breathing got more difficult, Banner took over more and more of the conversation. Doing his best to keep Stark awake and focused, Steve occasionally tried to interject some useful tidbits but felt utterly unqualified.

"Shock and exhaustion are starting to catch up with him." Banner explained quietly as they started on final approach, as he spoke Steve couldn't help but notice how his teammate's eyes flickered over Hawkeye's limp form. "But luckily we have been able to keep his oxygen and blood pressure within safe levels. It will make it easier for the medical staff to get him stabilized."

Upon landing on the helicarrier, the Quinjet was lowered into one of internal bays and as soon as it was pressurized the medical staff descended on the aircraft. Clint was on a stretcher and moving before Steve had a chance to blink. Transporting Stark proved to be more challenging. In his Ironman suit he was far too heavy for a medical stretcher but someone had managed modified a section of rolling lab bench carry him. The engineer hadn't made a peep as Steve, Thor, and Banner had lifted him onto the cold metal surface, but the way his breath became more ragged and he squeezed his eyes shut that the move caused him agony.

Once Stark was loaded the three superheroes stepped back to give the medical staff room to maneuver. Then Steve, Thor, and Dr. Banner moved to follow the medics, but they found their way blocked by a stern looking Agent Hill.

"Give the medical staff the room they need to treat your team."

"But…" Steve tried to protest as he watched the pair of stretchers rolling across the deck.

"I will personally make sure that you are informed the moment there is news." Agent Hill moved to force Steve to look into her grey eyes. "For now, make sure that the rest of you get something to eat. The last thing we need is for one or more of you to pass out and give the medical staff more things to do."

"Understood, ma'am." He had been given an order, and as much as Steve didn't want to follow it at the moment, it was also a relief to have someone who was willing to take on the mantle of command.

* * *

Space was at a premium on the helicarrier, and as a result, the infirmary waiting area was painfully small. The fact that Dr. Banner didn't do particularly well in small places was well known by the rest of the team, so they decided that it would be best to wait for news in the large laboratory that was unofficially Starks domain on the ship. The floor to ceiling windows helped to lower the feeling of claustrophobia, the fact that Thor was pacing through the space like a caged tiger didn't.

"Thor could you hold still for a moment." Bruce groaned thirty minutes later when he simply couldn't take it any longer.

"Dr. Banner, is everything alright?" Steve looked up from the copy of _The New York Times he_ was currently reading, a very concerned look in his eyes. "Do we need to call one of the doctors?"

"Everything is fine." Bruce slowly kneaded his temples. "It is just watching him pace back and forth is kind of giving me a headache."

Thor ended up apologizing, then perching himself on one of the tall laboratory stools. Less than three minutes he was taping his foot against the metal so loudly that the rest of the team was slowly going mad. But even as Bruce began debating the going to his rooms and finding his noise canceling headphones couldn't find it in his heart to blame Thor for the situation. Thor had never been a person who could hold still, especially when he felt that action should be taken. The entire team was rescued by when one of the white coated medics peaked into the room.

"Do you have anything to report?" Steve asked, his voice polite, but his posture ramrod straight. The poor member of the medical staff seemed to cower in response. For a few moments the team held their breath expecting the worst. Then he spoke, well more mumbled.

"I am sorry sir, but could you please repeat that? We were not able to understand you the first time." Steve posture softened.

"They are both alive. I do not have much more information than that." The kid, they way that he was currently starring at his shoes made it Bruce difficult to concerning them anything else, rushed through the message. "Dr. Banner, the surgeon would like you to scrub up."

"But I am not that kind of doctor…" Bruce let the statement hang in the air.

"He would like you to join the engineering team." The youth's eyes flicked towards him nervously, as though he expected Bruce to decline the request. "There will be two teams working on Dr. Stark this afternoon. The engineering team will focus on removing the suit while the medical team will be treating any injuries found underneath said armor."

"I am not kind of doctor either."

"Bruce, don't shoot the messenger," Steve commented calmly. "Don't worry Bruce is always tired and grumpy after transformations. We apologize for him."

"I wasn't trying to and I am not overly grumpy. I was just pointed out the facts." Bruce glared at their team leader. "And I didn't say that I wasn't going to help, I was just pointing out the fact that I am probably not qualified to be helpful."

No one listened to his argument, and Bruce found himself being guided through the labyrinth of hallways and bulkheads. Finally reached a door marked 'Medical Staff Only.' It was one of five secondary entrances to the medical bays, and was usually only used for emergency drills and laundry. Inside the hallway changed from the metallic gray of the rest of the vessel to bland, sterile white.

Bruce was somewhat embarrassed to admit that he had never been in the inner sanctum. His unique biology protected him from the types of injury that usually affected the rest of the team. He also never had physicals on board. This was due to the fact that most doctors seemed to prefer to take blood samples of body measurements in rooms that provided escape hatches through which they could escape.

"Dr. Banner, we need you to change into this pair of scrubs. After that Keith will help you scrub up for surgery." With that his med tech guide disappeared through the hallway, leaving Bruce to struggle into his scrubs. He was about to start washing his hands in the oversized sink, when a voice behind him startled him.

"Are you familiar with the protocol, sir?"

"Sort of, I haven't scrubbed into an actual surgery since I finished residency." It wasn't completely true, as a scientist Bruce knew a thing or two about keeping things sterile. Still it had been years since he had scrubbed for anything more complicated than giving stitches. "Keith is it?"

"Yes sir."

"You might as well walk me through the steps." Bruce tried to be kind but it was difficult to not wince at the formality. It was clear that the helicarrier's medical staff didn't particularly trust him.

Keith was a very precise individual and his instruction showed it. Soon Bruce had scrubbed his hands and forearms in the hot water until the sink was pink and slightly raw. He was handed a mask and tied it in place. Then he followed the scrub tech through the door into action.

When Bruce entered the surgical bay, he honestly expected the worst. He expected blood and chaos. Instead, he found Tony Stark lying on his side on sturdy looking metal table. He was still in nearly full armor and he was still clearly awake, but at least his color was better. Stark looked up from the tablet he was working on, and with a small finger wave greeted his teammate.

"Hi Bruce, good to see you are willing to help."

"He's still awake!?" Bruce could stop the words from spilling out of his mouth.

"Yes _he_ is still awake and _he_ currently has a massive headache so will you please keep it down?" Stark commented with an exaggerated whine in his voice.

"But they are keeping you conscious during surgery!"

"Dr. Banner if you do not quiet down we will have to ask you to leave." The tallest and most muscular of the surgeons was glaring at him, clearly unhappy with the latest development.

"But…" Bruce tried to interject.

"Would both of you two just shut up? I am the one in pain and thus I am the only one allowed to whine about the current situation." Stark sharp retort silenced the operating room. Once all of the attention was fully centered on him, he spoke quiet worn voice. "And goodness sakes Bruce, it is not like I haven't been awake during major surgery before. Enough small talk, let's…let's just get this done."

"Alright." Bruce took a few deep breaths to calm himself, then focused on the problem at hand. "Where do we start?"

Tony Stark began to walk the team through the pain staking process of removing the suit one screw at a time.

* * *

For being an organization which worked with superheroes, aliens, and technology that shouldn't exist, SHIELD was surprisingly anti telepath. SHIELD probably restricted the number of telepaths on staff because SHIELD couldn't successfully keep secrets from them. Unfortunately, this complicated the life of Dr. Nicolas Cunningham and he was a man that didn't particularly enjoy having his life complicated.

Dr. Cunningham was an empath, which gave him the ability to sense the emotion of those he came into physical contact with. While he was technically on staff to be one of the psychologist team and analyze agents' mental ability to go into the field¸ SHIELD was starting to use him for a host of other smaller tasks. His least favorite of these tasks was determining the extent of brain damage and determine brain death in agents injured in the field.

"Agent Barton is prepared for the procedure." The nurse had a look of pity in her chocolate color eyes.

"Thank you, I will be there in a moment. I just need a few more minutes sorting through the files."

The nurse padded away almost silently leaving Dr. Cunningham with the cold hard facts of the medical report. He had already read it three times, and things didn't look good for Agent Barton. While in the field he had been shot with an unknown weapon which caused him to fall off a multi-story building. He was caught by a fellow team member, but that teammate had determined that Agent Barton was not breathing. Rescue breathing was applied as quickly as possible, but the damage was most likely already done.

It was a simple fact that the brain was a needy organ. Without a supply of oxygen the brain begins to die. In normal conditions permanent damage begins to happen approximately six minutes after the lungs stop taking in oxygen. If the person is exceptionally healthy, like most of the SHIELD agents, their hyperoxygenated blood might give them an extra two minutes.

Unfortunately for Agent Barton, it appeared that his body ran out of oxygen. His eyes reacted, but sluggishly. The rest of his reflexes were non-existent and the Agent wasn't even capable of breathing on his own. The prognosis looked so bad that they hadn't even bothered with an EEG and simply called Dr. Cunningham in order to determine if life support should be pulled and Agent Barton should be allowed to die.

Dr. Cunningham took a breath to center himself and then he walked down the hall to the ICU. There was only one patient in the bay, which meant the man on the respirator had to be Agent Barton. He forced himself to look, to focus on the person before him. Then, with a nurse as witness, he reached out and touched his palm to the man's forehead. He steeled himself to come in contact with the flashes of a brain too damaged to run the body it was housed in...or perhaps the emptiness of a soul already departed. Instead, he was greeted by an overwhelming wall of fear and pain. Instinctually he snatched his hand away, almost as though he had been burned. After, taking a few breaths to steady himself he placed his hand back on Agent Barton and tried to make sense of what he was feeling.

"Hello. What do we have here?"

"Doctor?"

"This patient is not brain dead. In fact, I think that he is fully intact." Dr. Cunningham cocked his head to one side.

"Doctor what is it?" The nurse was clearly becoming more concerned.

"I also think that he is hearing us." At his words Dr. Cunningham felt a strong rise of emotion…it had to be hope. Agent Barton could hear them, and now he felt hopeful that they could find a cure to his current situation. "Nurse, we need an expanded blood toxin screen. Agent Barton needs some form of pain medication. While he appears to be completely paralyzed, his nerves are still active."

"But the head physician said that Agent Barton was brain damaged, and even if he is suffering from paralysis he shouldn't be feeling anything."

"There is more than one type of paralysis. Some types, particularly those involving drugs, are not painless. I believe that Agent Barton is suffering from the latter situation."

"If his condition is caused by an unknown drug that we can't give him any medication until we know what it is. Otherwise, the drug interaction in his bloodstream could kill him."

"Then you better get started on a better tox screen." Dr. Cunningham pulling out a pen to begin taking additional notes.

"I can't order that Sir."

"But I can. From this point, Agent Barton is my patient and I am ordering the tests. If anyone has issues with that, send them to me."

The nurse stomped out, clearly unhappy with the situation. Dr. Cunningham couldn't blame her, he was a physiatrist and thus he really shouldn't be dabbling in this type of medicine. Still, a doctor on staff had been ready to flush this man's life down the drain simple because he couldn't think out of the box. Someone had to step in and give Agent Barton a fighting chance to live. He flipped open the chart and quickly reviewed the few personal details it contained. He softly took the Agents hand and spoke in the clear, gentle voice he cultivated for working with civilians suffering with PTSD.

"Clint, I know that you can hear me and I need you to listen to me. I am not a telepath, but I am an empath. That means that I can sense your emotions when I am in direct contact. I know that you are scared and I know that you are in a lot of pain right now. I can't give you anything to help that until we figure out what is wrong." Dr. Cunningham soothed. "But I promise we are not going to give up until we have figure out what is going on." The feeling of worry just deepened, and Dr. Cunningham realized that Agent Barton was not worried about himself, instead, he was trying to figure out what happened to the rest of his team."Right now, you need to stop worrying about your team, and start focusing on your own recovery. I know that is hard, but I am going to do my very best to make sure that you get a team visit."

As Nicholas left, he couldn't shake the feeling of helpless that his patient was feeling.

* * *

_**Endnote** \- Figuring out the medical set up on the Helicarrier was a bit challenging, but I decided to base it off the medical bays in real aircraft carriers. In this case, I am copying the USS America because I could find the best pictures/description of how the spaces were organized. As a result, the helicarrier has a relatively large pre-op zone with room for up to seven stretchers, two operating rooms (one that is designed to take on major/trauma situations and the other one used for day to day procedures such as elective procedures and stitches). The carrier also has a three bed ICU which will be quickly taken over by the Avengers and about 25 additional dedicated medical beds. In an emergency, the medical staff can turn the adjoining crew quarters into additional beds for casualty overflow. In addition to the critical care spaces, the helicarrier also has a full x-ray set up, a medical lab, a pair of dental offices, and a handful of rooms used for routine examinations/checkups. I suspect that after this experience Tony will be making significant changes to the design to make it a bit more comfortable of patients._

_**Next Chapter** \- They weren't called the Avengers for nothing. With two of their number in the ICU, Natasha is called out of the field and the hunt for answers begins. _


End file.
